


The Club

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Hook, BDSM, Bondage, Dom John, Dom/sub, Fingering, Hand Job, Handcuffs, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Orgasm Delay, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Sub Sherlock, Suspension Bondage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's got an old friend who owns a BDSM club so when said owner has problems where will he go?</p><p>Problem is, John can't be seen in public as a sub… that leaves Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by sherlockian4evr

John couldn’t believe the weather. Well, he could when it came to the temperature, it was January. But there was no snow for a change, just ice and rain. An awful lot of rain. He shook his jacket out as he hung it on the hook over Sherlock’s Belstaff and slowly made his way up the seventeen steps into 221B. There was no screeching of a violin and no other sound effects that usually graced the flat with Sherlock’s presence and the never ending experiments, which could only mean one thing; trouble.

He swung the door open and reached one hand through to the bathroom where he snagged the towel off the hand rail. He ran it through his hair in an attempt to stop the dripping. When John had left for work this morning Sherlock had a client, and yet the flat was silent now, no pacing or things getting thrown, usually his things. He had said the client was an old friend and for once he owed this new man a favour rather than the other way around. John was sure he recognised him from somewhere but couldn’t place it. According to the currently absent detective it wasn’t anything dangerous and he insisted he leave whilst him and his friend discussed the details. If the doctor didn’t know any better he would say that the younger man had been trying to get rid of him, yes, that happened on cases when he needed to hide away in that Mind Palace of his, but never before, in fact he usually insisted that he stick around; he liked to talk aloud and genius did need an audience after all.

“Sherlock?” he called through, still drying his hair. He was sat on the sofa by the wall. Well, laid out would be a more accurate description. His fingertips were pressed together beneath his chin in his common ' thinking' pose. He was evidently in his Mind Palace but something was wrong. He very rarely ever went into his Mind Palace after only being on the case for a few hours, he always needed more 'data' but if this case had only last a few hours then it wouldn’t be worth filing away in the first place. It appeared to John that he wasn’t all up there, he was squirming in what looked like discomfort.

“What’s the matter, Sherlock?” the doctor questioned, he honestly didn’t know why he bothered asking any more. One of three things would happen. The sod would either growl, open one eye and stare at him until he moved away with his hands up in a placating gesture or he would not get a response at all.

However, this time he did get a reply, it was simple but it was a reply all the same. “A new case.”

John gave him the once over and made his own deductions. He sunk into his armchair across from where Sherlock was sat.

“Judging by your fidgeting arse being more impatient than normal I’m going to jump to the conclusion that you don’t think that whatever it is about the case that you’re about to say I’m not going to like.”

Both of the detective’s eyes snapped open at once, if John wasn’t used to it on a daily basis it almost appeared to be a threat. “You know, John, you are getting better at deducing… for an idiot.”

Well he had to go and ruin a half decent compliment, John thought with irritation but his game was clear. “Don’t change the subject, Sherlock, even if that is some twisted way of saying well done.”

The detective froze, his fingers straightening beneath his chin. Then his hands moved, dropping down beside him as he slowly, ever so slowly, began to sit up. His legs spun around and he dropped his hands on his thighs. He regarded John inquisitively for a moment.

The doctor shook his head in astonishment, why did he need to look at him that way? As if he was a dead body that he needed to ‘figure out’. He had been deduced by the younger man enough times to know that there was no way he was gathering data that he hadn’t already gathered years ago.  
“Sherlock I’ve been your flatmate for 6 years, there is almost definitely nothing you can say or do that will surprise me now. Trust me on this one.”

The arched eyebrows on the pale face in front of him didn’t seem convinced.

John rolled his eyes and stood up. “Fine, stubborn git, if you don’t want to talk.” The doctor spun on his toe and headed to the kitchen. He set about going through every cupboard until he found things that would be of use as he started to make dinner. He pulled out the pasta and put the kettle on to boil some water up, he was starving and that would definitely speed the process of getting to eat warm food.

***

“Wh-what do you know of Club F?” Sherlock stumbled over the question from the door to the kitchen.

He made John jump, water splashing out of the pan as he grabbed the spoon in surprise. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry,” the detective mumbled, his head low.

The doctor turned from where he was stirring dinner, one hand now on the handle. He took a moment to get his bearings and then shook his head as it caught up with him what Sherlock had actually said.

“Club F? What do _you_ know of Club F?”

Sherlock, for once, ignored the fact that all John had done was replay his own question. “I know there is potentially a very high risk there. Sounds great for a case,” he added hopefully.

John felt the need to point out the obvious, as the detective seemed to be circling around the actually purpose of the club, like it was irrelevant. “Sherlock you do realise that it is a BDSM club, don’t you?”

“Of course, don’t be obvious John,” Sherlock snarked his tone had lost that anxious stumbling it had had a moment ago.

“Right.” He turned back to the pasta and sauce but by this point it was beginning to stick to the pan, it looked more like one of Sherlock’s experiments than it should have done. The doctor couldn’t believe this conversation, he was sure Sherlock had never even had a relationship before and here he was talking about a BDSM club like it was the pub by Scotland Yard.

“Will you come?” the detective asked with an attempt to sound nonchalant, he didn’t succeed and his voice wavered slightly. John closed his eyes but made sure Sherlock couldn’t see. The amount of times he had thought about what a relationship would be like with the younger man only to argue with himself that it wouldn’t work because he wasn’t gay. That wasn’t strictly true, he had male partners in the past, but that was a long time ago, he’d been a teenager but since he had joined the army all the men he got close to were more like brothers than boyfriends. But offence was the best form of defence, wasn’t it? At least that what he told himself.

“Sherlock, it’s not Barts, you can’t just pop in whenever you feel like it.”

“I know,” he nodded and took a cautious step into the room, seeming to decide that it was safe to proceed, he leant back against the table and folded his arms across his chest. “I required more data so I borrowed your laptop and did some research. Not all clubs requires two people but Club F does, it needs one person to take on the role of a dominant and the other to take on the role of a submissive. The titles, I believe speak for themselves so I felt no need to conduct research into those.”

John chuckled, tilting his head back in a way that suggested he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. “Have you thought this through, Sherlock? I mean, all the way through.”

“Of course I have, John. Don’t be an idiot. It occurred to me that it is more than likely going to need someone on the inside and may take some time. But in the scheme of things all it would require is for you to be on a leash-”

John put his hand up here, to interrupt. “No no no. Not going to happen.”

Sherlock froze. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, John. I would go with Lestrade but I doubt that he can get the time off work, what with all those extra hours he’s been putting in with my brother.”

“It’s not being embarrassed that I said no. In fact, there is nothing to be embarrassed about as you said.”

“I don’t follow.”

“For a start, mate, I can’t be seen in any club as a sub, people will know something is wrong, going undercover when your cover isn’t solid, to be honest, isn’t a great situation to put ourselves into. And secondly Club F is the biggest, strictest BDSM club around. You go for a week at a time. It’s not a few hours of an evening once a month.”

“How do you know?” Sherlock was more than curious now. He prided himself on being able to know everything about everyone and here he was missing a major part of what could potentially be a part of John’s life, he lived with the man for god’s sake he had to have seen things that linked to this. Maybe he had but just deleted them through finding nothing of relevance to previous activities. He moved forward and repeated the motion of leaning against the unit with his arms folded, except this time it was right next to the hob and the doctor couldn’t help but look across at him.

“I’ve been to F once before, a long time ago, a very long time ago in fact, but my sub didn’t last the full week. She began to struggle by day 3 by day 5 she safe worded.”

“How dull.” Sherlock had a smug smirked plastered on his face and immediately John felt the need to defend her, Club F, by nature is a hard core club, it’s not cut out for everyone even everyone within the Dom/sub lifestyle.

“No, Sherlock, no.” the doctor shook his head, determined to put up a solid argument about how demanding a club like F could be and how even the strongest partners can struggle. “She was a very experienced submissive and it was just too much for her. She was not the first sub to safe word, she won’t be the last, and I’ve known male subs to not be able to handle it.”

“It won’t be too much for me,” Sherlock said with such heart felt conviction, if John hadn’t have had previous experience with this sort of thing he would have believed the detective’s statement, instead he just shook his head again. He felt the need to bring up a question he had once asked their land lady many years ago.

“Sherlock, have you ever been… in a d/s relationship before?”

At the detective’s slight shake of the head John continued. “Have you ever been in any sort of relationship before?” he asked with caution but today, unusual as it was, the younger man seemed more willing to open up, talk about himself and his past in a way he never had before. If nothing came of this John could at least claim that he could get him to open up, he just wish he knew this when all the business with Irene Adler kicked off… it may have been beneficial to Sherlock in a way that he would have seen The Woman for who she was and what she was really after. The brunet took a moment to think his answer through and a look of intense concentration crossed his face, it made John smile… it was always him that needed to concentrate, never the genius. “I… yes, but... Well… I mean to say that I haven’t been… penetrated.” He stumbled over the word but it wasn’t through embarrassment, more a lack of understanding.

John turned away, he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. His flatmate which he believed, up until a few seconds ago, was a virgin was asking him to go undercover at a club but not just any club, a BDSM one that tilted towards the more extreme way of that sort of lifestyle with no experience at all in relationships, let alone being dominated in one.

“Right,” the doctor dragged the word out. “So you’ve never been penetrated.” He went back to the hob, so he was even more shielded from the detective but he didn’t blush, he didn’t even feel embarrassed like he knew he should. It had been a long time since he had engaged in a d/s relationship, at least since he had moved into Baker Street. Sherlock would have found out about his experience in that area if he had. “But you want to enter a very strict BDSM club for no less than a week. Where you will be required to remain in role for the entire time. For once, Sherlock, just once, will you think this through?”

“I have thought this through. Since when did I not think anything through, John?”

“Since you go haring off after murderers in the middle of the night with no back and no sense of self preservation.”

The detective resisted the urge to poke his tongue out, that would just serve to highlight his childishness and John would have an even more valid reason to argue against the case.

“A moment ago you were going to be dominant, now you’re going to be submissive,” the doctor ran his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. “It doesn’t work like that, Sherlock.”

“I’ve read around the subject and looked into the different components involved with each aspect. I had anticipated that you may offer embarrassing protests to being the submissive party so I had to be willing to take that role on myself. If not it would have been pointless asking you to help. I believe I am what you would call a ‘switch’.”

“It’s not that it’s embarrassing, Sherlock. Nothing about being submissive is a bad thing. In fact sometimes in clubs I wished I was a sub, a lot less agro and if you have the right Dom that you can trust completely you have nothing to worry about. But then from the point of view from a Dom, seeing a submissive that you have grown to love beneath you and willing to do anything you wish… there’s nothing quite like it, to be honest.”

John glared at the pasta and sauce which was now ruined, he attacked it with the spoon for a while but it just stuck to the pan. The doctor growled. He threw it in the bin, the pan as well, Sherlock watched him in mild amusement. The blond spotted his phone on the table and scooped it up into his hand before throwing it to Sherlock. “I need a shower, call us a Thai in or something.”

“Why?” he asked even as he caught the phone easily. He stared at the blank screen, not even bothering to ask the older man the password, they both knew he’d be able to deduce it in seconds just from the way John glanced at the floor or something.

“Because if you don’t do as you’re told we will not continue this conversation. At all.” It was a promise and Sherlock took it as one. He watched the doctor leave and head towards the stairs before swiping his thumb across the screen and tapping in the passcode.

John hurried up the stairs like his life depended on it, he grabbed his dressing gown and a fresh pair of pants before heading back downstairs and into the bathroom. He was pleasantly surprised to hear Sherlock’s deep baritone seep under the door from the other room. He was ordering their favourites, he had half expected the younger man to ask for all the food he knew John disliked just to spite him and still be able to claim he had ‘done what he had been told’.

He sighed in relief when he’d climbed out of all his clothes and managed to wriggle out of his pants. All this talk of BDSM clubs and the simple thought of Sherlock on his knees, long legs tucked out of the way… was doing nothing to quell his arousal and the thought of the detective obeying him just now without a three hour argument prior was nearly pushing him over the edge. He stepped under the warm spray and allowed himself a quiet groan. Why couldn’t he have a bathroom upstairs? He could groan as much as he liked then and Sherlock’s supersonic hearing wouldn’t be able to penetrate up the flight of stairs. His cock was so hard he knew he’d struggle to wash himself without relieving it. The lube was upstairs so he had to use water but it did its job adequately for now. He grabbed the base of his cock and tugged at it rather erratically. He was pumping hard and fast and it took mere moments before he felt his pulse pushing through his cock and up his arm. He jerked and managed to muffle his groan by biting his flannel as he came. He relaxed back against the wall, well spent.

It took him nearly 10 minutes to come back to himself and he knew Sherlock would deduce something wasn’t right if he didn’t get a shift on so he quickly washed himself. He flicked the spray off and after a few deep breaths he was ready to climb out of the shower and set about getting dressed, determined to get back to the conversation that posed some interesting entertainment for the evening.

When John returned from his shower, erection free and a clean shirt it was to find that the detective had gone so far as to clear away the half-finished experiment and lay the table. Something the doctor was sure he had never done in his life.

If Sherlock noticed the fact that John had been masturbating he didn’t say anything for which John was oddly grateful, not a word he would use around Sherlock on a normal day, but then again what was normal with this man? He had just been invited to a BDSM club by his best mate, how was that remotely close to normal?

When the bell rung downstairs, Sherlock smiled rather sheepishly at the older man before he grabbed his wallet from the side and raced down the stairs. He returned moments later with a bag of delivered Thai. He set all of John’s favourite dishes out in front of him and with a pointed look, placed something in front of himself as well.

“Thank you, Sherlock,” the doctor said, his voice laced with gratitude, he really was hungry.

The detective’s head snapped over to look at him in surprise, he tilted his head on one side as he regarded the doctor silently. The older man suddenly felt the urge to reassure him that this was good, this was all fine so he smiled warmly and the slight fleck of worry on the brunet’s face disappeared.

“Before we discuss this further,” John started once he’d finished his first few mouthfuls. Sherlock looked up hopefully but he hadn’t touched his food yet, the doctor made it clear with looks alone what he was after and went back to his own meal, not continuing until Sherlock ate something.

With a put upon sigh Sherlock had a couple of mouthfuls of seafood and then glared at John until he continued.

John chuckled at the impatient man. “I just wanted you to know I will help-” he cut off at the detective’s grin. “But there will be rules, Sherlock, and you will stick to them.” John’s voice had taken on a rather sharp tone and it made the detective nod quickly. “I mean it, Sherlock, if you don’t, punishment will be in order.” He should sound stupid for this, talking to a fully grown man who has no experience with BDSM or its culture, discussing rules that on any other day the younger man would have laughed at. But he didn’t, he sounded confident; in control.

Sherlock stared at him for a moment, his currently pale grey eyes searching deeply into the sea blue ones across the table. He took a moment, staring down at the food the doctor was making him eat, weighing up what he had said, then he nodded.

They both continued to eat in companionable silence that should have been uncomfortable but was in fact the most comforting pause in time that they had shared in a long while, it was normally haring off into oncoming traffic.

“I heard that Club F was closed for refurbishment anyway, the owner, Malcolm, is his name? said he wanted to change the décor in the club, make it more modern or something, at least that’s what it said in the paper last week.”

“What paper have you been reading, John?” the detective asked with a raised eyebrow, his eyes were alight with activity and mischief.

“It was an article on recent renovation, something about big business men putting their profits into renovation rather than additional taxes.” He shrugged. “Sounds rather boring but you were out and there was sod all going on, even Mrs. Hudson wasn’t having any problems. That afternoon I could have done with her microwave blowing up or something, it would have given me something to do.”

Sherlock laughed, low and deep and John felt his zipper stretch slightly as his already pleasured cock began to harden again.

“It is closed, yes. The gentlemen that came over this morning is the owner as well as an old friend. Two women and a man, all submissives went missing over a three week period.”

“One a week,” John filled in the obvious.

“That’s what he said.” Sherlock agreed with a nod. “The changeover day in the club is a Sunday and each Saturday the Dominant of the pair said they were missing.”

“Saturday...” John trailed off thinking back through the years. “It was the same then but I only glimpsed the handbook so I don’t know what happened on the Saturday because by the Thursday we were on our way home.”

“What I want to know is if you remain in your respective roles for the whole week how did they go missing and no one saw them go?”

“Well that’s assumedly why the owner came to you but what makes you think the reason for their disappearances will still be there when it reopens?”

“This sort of thing has to be on a big scale. I mean, I don’t know much about this area of… leisure activities but I know for a fact that three people going missing over three consecutive weeks has to be on a larger scale. It’s too planned… too well organised to be an opportunist. And if it’s that well planned… well no one would have known it was closing for refurbishment and no one has been caught so there is no reason why it wouldn’t continue, like I said it was well planned and the plan didn’t go wrong so there would be no reason to stop.”

“Why hasn’t he gone to the police?” John questioned.

Sherlock stared down at what was left of his dinner… he had managed to eat a lot more than normal and realised it had to be John’s influence. “They weren’t vulnerable and they were consenting adults so there was never a sexual aspect, that sort of missing person never gets very far with the police. What do they do? File a report? No, Clive knew he needed to look into it, he said it himself it was too much of a coincidence with it being the same MO and in consecutive weeks. He needs my help and I kind of owe him one.”

“When is it back open then?”

“April.”

“It’s January.” John paused for a moment, thinking. “Good, that gives us three months.”

“Three months? For what?”

“You can’t just become a submissive Sherlock, that’s not the way it works. It takes a long time and to be fluid and easy around each other it takes time and practice.”

Sherlock started shaking his head in protest. “No, no, no, it’s easy. You say jump, I jump, I don’t even pause to ask how high.”

“But you don’t,” John argued. “I tell you not to run off after murderers alone and what do you do?” the doctor was doing a good job at staying on top of his emotions, showing anger to Sherlock right now would not be a good thing. If this was going to work there needed to be nothing but trust and cooperation between them.

Sherlock sighed and rested his head in his hands, he’d finally finished eating all he had been doing was poke the remains around the plate. “But I wasn’t a sub then.”

“You’re right, you weren’t. But you’ve also never been penetrated. A club such as F requires a certain amount of… public performances.”

Sherlock froze with his fork in mid-air, deciding to eat some more. “You mean…” he trailed off not being able to finish his sentence.

“All the subs participate Sherlock, as do all the Dom’s obviously. We need to establish trust and you need to start listening to me.”

“But-”

“No, this is how it is going to be. You will do what you are told when you are told and we will start with something simple. If this is what you want I am happy to comply.” The detective frowned, he did want this but he felt the need to get ‘one up’ on the older man before it started properly. “You said you’re not gay.”

“For the record, I’m not.” He grinned at Sherlock and started piling up all the used trays in front of the younger man. “I’m bi.”

“So where do we start? What’s this ‘something simple’?”

“Well, first you finish that up. All of it.” He indicated the left over seafood in the tray beside him. “And then you will get a full night’s sleep, we’ll start in the morning.”

Sherlock looked for a moment as if he was about to argue but he seemed to contradict himself in his head as he ended up nodding instead. “Okay, John.”

Well… that was unexpected. So was Sherlock emptying the tray in a few mouthfuls and collecting the ones John had already been piled up, taking them to the bin. He made himself a glass of water quickly, all with the doctor watching. He downed it in one mouthful and headed straight for his bedroom without a word to suggest that he would complain and kick off all night. “Night, John,” he offered over his shoulder.

“N-night, Sherlock,” John stumbled, calling after him in surprise.

Maybe Domming the younger man wouldn’t be as difficult as he first thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta read by sherlockian4evr

John leant against the bedroom door as Sherlock slept. He had spent a long chunk of the night planning how he was going to tackle this with the younger man but now realised he appeared comfortable - peaceful as he slept. He wasn’t fidgeting or thinking, just asleep. He took a few measured steps into the room to see more clearly. He was sprawled out on his front, his legs spread wide, with only one beneath the sheets and his right arm hanging down the side of the bed.

Even after thinking for the majority of the night he still couldn’t believe the conversation they had had the evening before. No wonder why he had been so closed off when he had got home, it wasn’t him being difficult for a change, he had been trying to figure out what he was asking and how to put in a way that he would find suitable and get what he wanted out of it. To be honest John would have been alright with it however Sherlock had asked him, it wasn’t an opportunity he could just pass up. He had missed the Dom/sub lifestyle and the chance to give it a go with Sherlock was almost unbelievable. He always used the _I’m not gay_ line, offence was the best form of defence after all. But when he had been younger he had made exceptions and they had been fantastic, specifically in this area, so why not now?

He was so distracted looking for reasons how he would get to bugger the detective into the mattress that he didn’t realise that said detective had woken up and was peering at him over his shoulder. “J-John.” He was squinting at the doctor, his bedroom was extremely dark when the curtains were shut and a bright silhouette from the door first thing in the morning could be quite intimidating, even to Sherlock.

“Sherlock?” the doctor’s head snapped over to look at the younger man again, he stumbled back a few paces and his back hit the wall.

“Were you watching me?”

“Curious.” It wasn’t until he said it he realised how Sherlockian that was. Just one word as if everyone else could see all the thought processes working their way through his mind. It didn’t seem to bother Sherlock like it bothered him though. He guessed the younger man was used to it.

“About what?”

“You never sleep this long,” he stated as if Sherlock didn’t know that himself, going by the slight widening of his eyes he didn’t.

He was taking this rather well, seeing as it could be classed as weird to wake up with your flatmate standing over you watching as you slept. He had found it weird when he’d woken up a few months ago with Sherlock stood over him. In fact, he’d gone mad and slept at Sarah’s for a week. He realised Sherlock was still watching him in confusion and smiled, the crinkles above his nose did go though.

“You getting up now?”

There was a deep inhalation and a slight shake of curls before he rolled over, tangling both legs in the sheet.

“Come on, Sherlock,” he figured he needed to continue as he meant to go on. “I’ll stick the kettle on.”

“Go away,” he moaned, his displeasure obvious.

“Nope. It’s 10 o’clock, at least it was, it’s probably more like half past now. Come on, we’ve got things to do.”

John paced to the side of the bed, he had no idea why Sherlock needed a king size when he always slept alone, surely a double would have sufficed? He grabbed the sheet Sherlock had wrapped himself in and pulled, the bundle unravelled and the detective rolled out in just his pyjama bottoms. He took the chance without an audience to glance at the naked chest in front of him. Oh how he wanted to tie it up, run a length of red rope around it and create pretty patterns across his flatmates chest, _damn it Watson._

The detective groaned like he had just been asked to save the government from a secret terrorist plot beneath parliament. “Why?”

“Have you forgotten our conversation last night already?” John said it but he didn’t believe it. It had something to do with a case, and to Sherlock that was important, he only ever deleted facts he seemed to think just used up space.

Sherlock seemed to pause and looked very much like a thinking character in a comic strip, it would have been finished perfectly if he’d had a thought bubble hovering above but then again, John doubted that any one thought could be kept a track of. When he sat up it made John jump.

“That wasn’t a dream?”

John laughed and grabbed his hand, not at all thinking how often he had wanted to do that. He dragged him towards Sherlock’s ensuite and pushed him through the door. “Stay in there and get showered. No it wasn’t a dream,” he added at his addled expression. John was actually quite pleased to say that he was the one who put it there. “You honestly believe you dreamt asking me to come to a BDSM club with you?”

The detective blushed, a pale pink rising up his neck into his cheeks. The blush alone made the doctor more curious to find out more about Sherlock’s dreams, even if this whole BDSM thing didn’t work out this would be blackmail material for years to come, it would be quite nice to use something _against_ the younger man rather than the other way around.

“I said yes, you donut; but we have to start somewhere and that is with you doing as you are told.”

The detective let out a put upon sigh but obediently leant around the shower curtain to turn on the water.

“Good,” the doctor nodded. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy. Not wanting to press any buttons John moved to close the door behind him calling out over his shoulder, “You’ve got 15 minutes.”

15 minutes was plenty of time for John to throw some food together that Sherlock would eat with minimal complaint.

***

However, when Sherlock emerged from his bedroom just over 12 minutes later it was with a look on his face that clearly said this wasn’t going to be quite as easy as John had anticipated.

“Toast and fruit,” the doctor nodded to Sherlock’s usual spot, “and the kettle’s on.”

The detective’s hair was still wet and more out of control then normal, John had a horrible feeling that Sherlock was being deliberately petulant, making a point, it was exactly like him, after all. But John realised that Sherlock wouldn’t give up on this as it was for a case and the fact that it would be a challenge for both of them made the doctor feel a level of arousal that he really shouldn’t be feeling before lunchtime.

“I’m not hungry.” Sherlock walked straight through the kitchen, his dressing gown that he wore over his shirt, flailing out behind him much like his Belstaff did when he raced through London. He collapsed into his chair just as the kettle ticked off. “I’ll have a cup of tea though.”

“You’ll have a cup of tea at the table with me and the rest of your breakfast.”

“I’ve already said, I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care, come and sit down.”          

Sherlock frowned over at him but actually stood up. His dressing gown was pushed aside as he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “Why should I?”

John raised an eyebrow and watched the younger man with the sternest glare he could muster. He didn’t know what it was but it seemed to do the trick as Sherlock slouched back in from the other room, his shoulders rounded and his hands clenched in fists, he looked away from the doctor when he reached his chair and sat into it without another word.

“Eat both slices and the pear.”

Sherlock’s brow remained furrowed as he picked up his first slice of toast. “You know you could have left my equipment on here, John, I have that experiment to do for, Lestrade.”

“I am not leaving test tubes with god knows what in on the table while we eat. There’s a table in the other room, why don’t you use that?”

Sherlock stood, eager to get started.

“Not now, sit.”

Sighing, Sherlock sat back down again.  

“And will you start calling him Greg, he’s been in a relationship with your brother for months.”

“You know?”

“To be fair, mate, it’s kind of obvious, when your brother was here on that Ohio case and Greg came in it was just blaringly obvious the way they looked at each other.”

John placed the two mugs on the table and took a seat himself. The detective shrugged and moved onto the pear in the little dish.

“He’s just always been Lestrade. And anyway, I always forget and call him something stupid like Gavin or Jeff.”

“You don’t forget, Sherlock, you don’t forget anything. You do it on purpose to tease him.”

John didn’t miss the detective’s slightly fond smile at that even though he kept it pointing into his mug.

“He sees you as a real mate, you know.”

Sherlock shrugged. “Fine. I’ve got an experiment to do for _Greg_.”

“Yep, and you can do it later.” He held up a finger to cut off the younger man’s protests before he had even opened his mouth. “It’s Saturday and he’s not even at work this weekend.”

“But…”

“Sherlock, I’m going to say this once and only once. If you want to go undercover in one of the strictest BDSM clubs known we can’t just turn up. You need practice because you are the least submissive man I know.”

“But why do we need to start now?”

“Because we not only need to practice this together, we need to do it in public which means checking out some of the local clubs around in London. You need to be able to see some of the things that go on in these clubs and then know that at Club F it will be a hell of a lot stricter. It’s a way of life there not an evening’s entertainment.” He finished off his toast and moved onto his tea watching Sherlock over top of the mug. He had dropped his head to stare at his lap and then brought his hands up beneath him with his fingertips together in his normal thinking pose.

“Like what?” he asked eventually.

John let out a deep breath, pondering where to start. “Well, how many toys in a BDSM situation could you name?”

The detective’s brows furrowed in thought and confusion for a moment. He shrugged. “I don’t know, sex?”

“Ok,” the doctor paused for a moment. This should be awkward, why wasn’t this awkward? This shouldn’t even have crossed his mind, the idea that this could work. For Sherlock there was so much to learn, he knew without thinking about it that Sherlock could learn bloody quickly and his memory was second to none. Maybe he was doing this for selfish reasons? Just the very idea of Sherlock’s pale form taught, laid out on a bed beneath him. Or tied to a cross as he circled him with the riding crop Sherlock frequented the mortuary with. “That’s an aspect, I guess, although that’s not really a toy.”

“Me?” he offered almost… cheekily. Did Sherlock really do cheeky? He did arrogant and irritable really well but _cheeky_?

John let out a low laugh. “You will be a toy, my main one.” He grinned at the younger man and after a moment it was returned. “This is why we are starting now. I just want you to get used to being around me. On a more intimate basis, I mean.”

“You’re going to fuck me.”

It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t posed as one, but did he have to look so damn hot as he said it? It was so casual… so well, not normal but he could see how it could become normal very quickly for the pair of them. But this was new territory for the both of them, they’d need to go slow that’s why 3 months would work perfectly in their favour.

“No, well yes,” he conceded and felt himself get slightly more aroused as he said it. “I will, that’s probably where we should start given your inexperience. If you’re ok with that?”

“Of course I am. Do it now.”

John couldn’t work out how he was so laid back about all of this. He had no idea what it would be like what it would feel like. He had no idea how many different areas of BDSM there were, not even John knew of all the aspects let alone tried them all. He shook his head, he didn’t want to discourage the younger man’s enthusiasm but he needed to divert it. “As I’ve already mentioned there’s a few clubs in central London. I want us to go to one on Friday and just check it out. We’ll go to one that I know fairly well as that should help with some inside knowledge. While we’re there I want to see if you can go through a few deductions. There will obviously be some differences at Club F and it will be harder for you to be able to scope the place out without being noticed, especially being the submissive so the more clubs we go to the easier it should be for you to get used to it.”

“Come on, John, making deductions,” he clapped his hands together in front of him, pleased with himself. “It’s what I’m great at.”

“That I know, you cocky sod, but doing it subtly really is not your thing.”

“I can do subtle,” Sherlock protested with a pout.

“You really can’t, Sherlock, I doubt you even know what the word means.”

The detective scowled at him.

“You’re going to have to be able to do it without looking up obviously. Now, I think we should make a start.” He let his hands fall gently against the table. “First off you can wash up.”

“What-”

“And I’ll dry.”

Still scowling the brunet pushed his chair back and snatched the dishes off the table, dropping them in the sink.

“Hot water, Sherlock. Come on, don’t make this difficult. The quicker these dishes are away we can get on to the more interesting part.”

Nodding, he set to it quickly getting through the dishes they’d used not only today but yesterday as well, he didn’t see John nod his approval at him but it wouldn’t be long before he was being praised all the time and the doctor knew just how much he liked that.

A few minutes later all the plates and bowls were where they belonged and Sherlock was leaning back against the unit, his arms folded almost defensively.

“Right, to get you into a submissive frame of mind, every time we talk about it I want you to be kneeling at my feet, wherever I am.”

“But-” Sherlock immediately let his protests known however John had been expecting some level of disobedience from the off.

“One.”

Sherlock paused for a moment, glancing between the army doctor’s stiff posture, his hands having gone behind his back in a normal at ease position, and the floor where he was expected to kneel.

“Are you really going to dominate me every day between now and when Club F reopens?”

“You don’t usually like people repeating themselves like this,” John sighed. “You have to get used to it, Sherlock, the more comfortable you are with me around the easier it will be. For both of us.”

“I’ve known you 6 years, John. I couldn’t be more comfortable around you. In fact you’re the only person I’ve ever been this comfortable around.”

From Sherlock that was a compliment, John took it as one and smiled. “That’s sweet, Sherlock, but I need to prove a point here.”

The detective pushed himself away from the unit and stepped towards the shorter man.

“Kneel for me.”

“John-”

“Two. Kneel, head to the floor, hands behind your back. Now, Sherlock.”

Slowly, with a wary glance at John, he complied. His knees bent first and he knelt on the cold hardwood floor, leaning over and pressing his head down too, to match it.

“And your hands, Sherlock.”

“If you think I’m-”

“Three.”

The younger man had no idea what the counting was about but he had deduced it wouldn’t be good whatever it was. Slowly his hands made their way behind him.

“Was that difficult?” the doctor half expected some absurd comment about how such an intelligent mind would find kneeling on the floor anything but difficult, there was no argument though.

“No...” But the complaint was heavy in his voice, John knew him well enough to hear it.

“Exactly. Now stay like that.”

“For how long?”

“Four. You don’t question me. You need to trust me enough to not have to question me.”

John paced around him in slow, calculated movements. It wasn’t long before Sherlock began to shift, it was his head that moved first, twisting to face the other way, then it moved again, as if he was scratching his ear into the floor. He began to wonder if John had left as the older man was staying out of sight. His senses had never let him down before but this was something completely new. His grip on his wrist slipped and both arms swung around.

“I told you to stay!” John barked.

Sherlock flinched. Well, John was still there at least. His hands crept back behind him, this time he gripped his wrist tighter than ever. The Captain smiled, the younger man wanted this more than John had originally anticipated.

“J-John.”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“Can I move now?”

“What do you think?” He’d moved his arms around in front of him to cross them over his chest but Sherlock didn’t know that, not given his position.

“Please,” it was almost a beg.

“That’s rare.”

Sherlock’s whole body was trembling with exhaustion. It hadn’t been that long in comparison to what other subs could handle but John assumed that was endurance through wanting to please their Dominant. Sherlock didn’t have that, at least, not yet. But he would hopefully.

“There’s a key sentence that will get you out of this, Sherlock.”

Sherlock’s mind was reeling as he thought back over everything they had discussed so far this morning. It had been a lot. He worked out why John had made him do this in the first place and said, “I’m uncomfortable. Can I move?”

John grinned. “Clever boy. Yes, you may kneel up.”

The sub growled as he untangled himself. He nearly found himself protesting at being called a boy, but after that small endurance task he was rather proud of the praise.


	3. Chapter 3

John dropped to his knees in front of him and brought him into a hug. “What are you doing?” Sherlock questioned, but he didn’t pull back.

“This is what you’d call aftercare.”

“Aftercare?” Even as he said it, he brought his hands up to rest on John’s back, sinking into the hug.

The doctor was so surprised at Sherlock’s response that he froze for a moment. Sherlock Holmes was hugging him. Hugging him. There was no cohesion or force, he’d just brought his hands up and was softly squeezing back. The only person John had ever seen Sherlock hug was Mrs. Hudson, and even that looked daunting, it was never a proper hug, he’d just slip his arm around her and pull her close for a few moments. But one thing John had noticed; he’d never seemed ashamed to do so, especially when those American’s broke into the flat and gave her that awful fright, he’d been protective, scarily so. He had reminded John of Mycroft so much in that moment that he found himself never wanting to get on Mrs. Hudson’s bad side, not that he would but he couldn’t imagine what the detective’s reaction would be like.

“Yes, aftercare. It is often subsequent to a punishment.”

“That was a punishment?” Sherlock seemed to find that idea amusing as he leant back to settle on his heels.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” John advised as he rocked back on his own feet and stood again. He looked down at the kneeling man, thinking for a moment. “Punishment isn’t all about whipping a sub black and blue when they’re bad so to speak.”

Sherlock’s frown was back again. “But I don’t like the idea of a cane or flogger, it doesn’t scare me, but the thought of it isn’t nice, so surely that would be a punishment.”

“Of course,” John agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I can just grab the cane for every single mistake you make. The punishment must fit the crime. Punishment doesn’t have to be painful, it can just be awkward like that just was for you. It’s a way of teaching you that what you had previously done was wrong and can be used to correct whatever it was.”

“But I got out of it by saying what you wanted.”

“That was me enforcing the lesson you needed to learn at that precise moment. In the past when that sort of thing happened, I usually talk a sub through it, so they can learn as they are being punished but I doubt that’s the way you learn. I know for a fact you learn from your mistakes pretty fast, but you learn better if you work out what the mistake was yourself. I won’t always be able to punish you like that, but I will when I can.”

“I am going to enjoy this far more than I thought I would this time yesterday,” the detective said from his submissive kneeling position on the floor.

“What makes you say that?” John leant back against the wall to regard the younger man curiously.

“Well, I’m assuming you’re not going to let me get away with any of the behaviour you call ‘brattish’.”

“Quite so,” the doctor agreed with a nod.

“Well, that means I’ll be allowed at more crime scenes and get the better cases.” At John’s odd look he continued. “Remember that woman a few months ago that walked out with that case which was at least a 9? Well, she was shouting ‘rude’ and ‘obnoxious’ if this works out, I won’t lose cases like those because when you now have a leg to stand on when you’re telling me to stop being a prat. A less rude me means less boredom.”

“It’s taken you this long to work that out?”

“No. I’ve known that for a long time, I just haven’t been bothered to change it. Now I have an excuse, or even relevant motivation.”

“So you’re going to be perfect from now on then, are you?” the Dom asked, his smile was clear in his voice even with Sherlock looking in a different direction.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, John,” but like the doctor, his smile was plain. He couldn’t believe it, here he was, knelt on the floor in front of the only flatmate he had ever had that had lasted more than a week, and it didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. In fact, it almost felt like it was where he was meant to be.

The two men were both surprised when the Dom’s hand found its way to the detective’s hair. They were both even more pleasantly surprised when Sherlock didn’t attempt to pull away.

The younger man’s curls were not what John had been expecting. They were soft and silky, not knotted and the mess that he had assumed. He had thought as soon as his hand entered them it would never leave. He grinned as the kneeling man’s head pushed up into it. Well, he would definitely be cuddly in subspace that was a guarantee. John couldn’t wait.

“Do you like that, Sherlock?”

He nodded.

“I’m not going to lie, but that is not what I had anticipated.”

“Me neither.”

John got distracted with the purring Sherlock was now eliciting and when he finally came back to himself, he realised they needed to do something, he was extremely hard.

“Right,” John declared, pulling his hand back and folding his arms across his chest.  
Sherlock literally jumped at the sudden voice and it made John laugh. “I’m sorry, Sherlock,” he apologised when his head had snapped up with an angry looking frown furrowing his brow. “I was in a bit of a daze, but we need to find a space where we can entirely focus on this. It is going to be a lifestyle thing until we get back from Club F but we have to start slow so in this place there will be no distractions from the rest of real life like phones or laptops, you should hopefully find the right headspace in this place easier too.”

“How long are you expecting this to take?”

The doctor had heard that question far too many times in the last 18 hours. “The three months,” he answered seriously. “Hopefully that will be enough.”

“The whole three months!”

“Sherlock!” John interrupted a rant that he was sure was imminent. The detective’s jaw clamped shut immediately. “I have already said this. You’ve just seen how long it took me to get you to do a task as simple as that. You’ve also never been penetrated. That is something we are going to have to work on.”

“What about my bedroom, then?” he relented.

“You’re too familiar with it.”

“John, this is our flat, we’re both familiar with all of it.”

The doctor thought for a moment. “You’re not familiar with my room.”

“But why can’t we use mine?” Sherlock argued.

“Because this is an entirely new concept, not to me, but for you and no matter what you say or do between now and Club F, it is still a new experience. You will want space after, your own space.”

“According to the website, I won’t have it at Club F,” he pointed out petulantly.

John had no idea why he felt the need to argue. All the time. That would change in time, he was sure of it. Sherlock had already brought up the fact that he should become more tolerable in everyday life.

“When I want you to, which conveniently happens to be now, you will go upstairs, you won’t enter my room without my specific permission. You will kneel outside, up straight, but head low, hands behind your back with your feet together, but not touching.” John knew it was a lot of information, but Sherlock’s head was like a video recorder, he would not need to repeat himself and if he did he would know for a fact that Sherlock was being deliberately provocative.

“Why so specific?” the detective questioned.

“Because that is the way I want you,” John responded with a frown.

“Yes. I get that. But why?”

“Go, Sherlock,” he pointed a much sterner than earlier finger at the door.

Sighing as if very put upon, the detective stood and stalked from the room, shoulders hunched.

“I will make you crawl next time!” he called after him. He couldn’t resist watching the tall man’s ass as Sherlock went through the door.

John straightened up a few items in the kitchen and then moved through to the sitting room to do the same just to pass some time. It should give Sherlock time to settle. It was nearly 100% sure the detective would be in the right position by the time he went upstairs, Sherlock wanted this for the case, if not some other reason he had failed to mention but something in him, his natural self would continue to fight it until he knew more about the feelings of submission. Leaving Sherlock time to think would be appreciated by both men, John was sure. It would allow him the chance to construct some questions. Questions were inevitable. The doctor was looking forward to trying to work out how Sherlock would best understand the answers and also how he would ask the question in the first place. He had a rather mixed view on the detective involving this particular case at the moment. His initial quizzing about Club F had been hesitant to say the least, but since then, last night at dinner and this morning while Sherlock actually ate breakfast their conversations were nothing what would appear to be beyond normal for the pair.

He climbed the stairs deliberately not missing the ones that squeaked, he wanted Sherlock to be aware of his arrival not be surprised, if that was even possible. The detective was as he had anticipated, perfectly positioned in a way that suggested he had done before. Going by his limited knowledge and only knowing things that had come from a few google searches John already knew he had no experience as to what was expected. He hoped Sherlock asked him this question on his own.

“I know you probably have questions, we’ll get to that in a moment, but seeing as you are already down there I will explain why you are there. This position is known as ‘present’. It takes many different forms depending on the dominant’s preference. But there is one for when are on your knees and one for when you are stood. That one is back straight, hands behind you, left wrist clasped in your right hand, your head will be lowered and your feet will be a little under shoulder width apart.”

Sherlock’s arms fell forward from his position and he moved to stand up.

“No. You stay there. The standing position is rarely used, specifically inside, there will be one exception in a minute. Usually it is if you are in an environment where the terrain isn’t suitable for you to kneel for a long time, or if you are wearing something particularly posh or smart for an event that doesn’t want to get creased or mucky. For me, the main one is definitely the terrain. I hate my sub’s kneeling on things like gravel, it’s not fair and is for people with a power complex. As a submissive you are giving me yourself, on your say so I can hurt you but not unconditionally. I’m not one for giving my subs knee pads, great for pet play, but that’s not normally my thing therefore to put you through unnecessary pain isn’t excusable or needed. If you are, you need to tell me using your safe word. Which gets me onto the limits. That will be a big conversation, but I want to scene with you first, not anything heavy, we’re not jumping into this in the deep end. But just a small scene, something sensual. But before we do you need to pick a safe word.”

“What’s wrong with the red, yellow and green?” Sherlock grumbled.

“Don’t get shitty Sherlock this is for your benefit so you are not in a position where you are uncomfortable of doing something you don’t feel you should be doing.” The Dom waited for Sherlock’s reluctant nod before he continued. “As for red, yellow, green, that is ok, but I would like you to pick a specific word also.”

“Why?”

“In case we are on a case and you feel the need to tell me to lay off, as you have already said I will be interrupting you if at any point you get arsey with the Yard, or witnesses or even victims from now on, you should use this word and I will leave off for the time being, if I don’t think it is a suitable time for you to tell me your safe word I won’t call you on it while we are out, but wait until we get home. You will have a valid excuse for safe wording, if you don’t, expect punishment. Does all that seem fair?”

Sherlock gave another reluctant nod.

“Explain it back to me.”

“I will have a separate word for when we are out. I can only use it when I need to.”

“Or what?” John prodded.

“You’ll punish me.”

A small blush was creeping its way up the back of Sherlock’s neck.

“Good.” John let his hand fall into the kneeling man’s curls again and was glad it hadn’t been a fluke earlier when Sherlock had pressed his head into it. “Pick your safe word.”

“Anderson.”

The doctor chuckled tousling the younger man’s hair between his fingers. “Good choice. Now,” John lowered his voice. “I want you in my room, in front of my bed, in your standing present position. Naked.”

“Naked?” Sherlock’s head came up at that.

“We have to start somewhere, Sherlock.”

“I know, it just surprised me, that’s all. Can I stand up?”

John grinned, making the detective feel oddly proud of himself. “Can I hug you?” he asked, feeling oddly sentimental. This was going better than he had originally thought. Even better than that was the fact Sherlock didn’t only just accept it, he hugged him back. “In you go then,” he whispered.

“Can I ask you a question first?”

“Yep.” He didn’t want to be seen as trying to deter Sherlock from asking questions. They were important to the both of them, specifically the sub so he could learn.

“What is it you expect from me? I get that this is just pretend or practice, but when we get to the clubs it will need to look real, won’t it?”

John couldn’t help but think Sherlock might thrive with this lifestyle, but he wasn’t about to say that. Instead, he offered, “Quite. I was actually hoping you would ask me that. Let’s go in here and sit down.”

The detective followed him in and stood awkwardly when John took a seat on the side of the bed. He patted the sheet next to him and waited.

“Don’t you want me kneeling?”

“For most things we discuss you will be kneeling, but I think this needs to be a conversation on equal footing. As will the limits discussion when we get around to it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you being put off by anything,” he held his hand up to silence the younger man’s imminent argument. “I know you being put off is an absurd eventuality, but I’ve known the brashest subs be deterred from speaking because they are on their knees. Now from any sub I expect obedience, unless you have safe worded. But that is the only excuse. That is my main one which goes along with following the rules set not only by me but by you also. I would usually expect affection to run both ways, but with this maybe not. Know I will not treat you unfairly and things such as the aftercare are a given. It is not a thing that will be taken away if you misbehave.”

“I don’t know if affection…” Sherlock couldn’t find a way to finish that sentence, he couldn’t work out why he had started it.

John smiled and carried on. “We will get on to sexual pleasure, but I wouldn’t worry about that yet as it is a long way off. Something closer to home is helping out around the flat. You will do your fair share of the chores. I know you quite often state that the washing up and the laundry and the hoovering and the dusting are boring. You are quite right. They are boring for me too they still need to be done.”

“That seems fair enough,” Sherlock agreed but he wasn’t that enthusiastic about the idea. Then again, no one was enthusiastic about washing up. The agreement was still more than John had hoped for at this stage.

“We’ve already discussed how your attitude has to change around our friends and colleagues mine as well as yours. You have also said how you think this will benefit you more than just being polite. I also want to ask you one thing that I wouldn’t normally.”

“Go on?” that had intrigued the detective.

“Make me proud at work. I love watching your deductions and I always add the odd comments, but make me proud even when I’m not there. Make me proud by Greg just mentioning how helpful you have been or how not-rude you were whilst I was at a shift at the surgery.”

“I’m not promising anything. Especially in the beginning, I’ll forget about manners and things.”

“But you promise to try?”

“Yes, of course. You’re going out of your way to make this as easy for me as possible the least I owe you is that.”

“Okay. Glad we’re agreed.” He clapped his hands together. “Shall we get to it then?”

“You want me to take my clothes off? With you watching?” he didn’t seem deterred by the idea, more amused.

“Well, I’m going to see you naked anyway, what difference does it make if I watch it happen or turn my back?”

“A good point.”

Sherlock stood, not nervous at all and began to move his clothes, starting with his dressing gown. He dropped it on the floor and did the same with his bottoms. No pants on underneath John noted. He waited until the younger man had completely removed all his pyjamas before he pointed with a raised eyebrow at the discarded items of clothing. Biting his lip, the detective bent down and began to pick up each item and fold them before putting them at the indicated space at the end of the blond’s bed.

“Present then, boy.”

Sherlock spun on his toe to look at the older man and John realised what he had said. Instead of uproar, Sherlock grinned.

“You like that, do you?”

His grin just got wider.

“Okay, _boy_. Present.”

He pointed to the floor just beyond the bed.

The detective complied immediately, his hands slotted together behind him.

John paced around him, reminding himself of his old army days, and he examined him thoroughly.

“What caused this?” he asked, pressing the pad of his thumb lightly along a narrow scar across the back of Sherlock’s left shoulder.

“School,” was all he said.

“School?”

“I wasn’t one for keeping out of fights,” he said this quietly, like he was unsure how John would respond.

“We’ve all had scuffles at school, Sherlock. But this looks like a knife mark.”

“It is,” he whispered.

“What happened?

“Do we have to talk about it?” he asked.

“Please, John.”

“Alright.’ John relented because Sherlock never said please. “But I will no doubt bring it up again, Sherlock. Maybe talking about it will help?”

“Maybe. But not now.”

“Fine.” The doctor continued his examination. Running his hands down Sherlock’s arms and across his back. The detective bit his lip.

“What about this one?” he asked as he reached a deep purple bruise just above his right hip.

“Last week,” Sherlock seemed a lot more comfortable now that they had changed subjects. “The Barton case.”

John walked back around to stand in front of him. “When did that happen? I was with you practically the whole time.”

“On the roof of the Yard. When he first escaped. He went up that fire exit, but everyone had done the ‘proper procedure’,” Sherlock grumbled the phrase out as if it was poison. “You went with Greg, took you an amazing 6 minutes to work out I wasn’t with you.” He seemed rather proud of himself.

John was more impressed with the fact he had called the DI ‘Greg’.

“That will not be happening anymore,” it came out as an order, which he hadn’t intended but was rather glad now he had.

Sherlock’s head dipped just a little bit further. “Of course, John.”

Next, the doctor took the younger man’s wrists in his own hands and examined each one. There was a long but narrow scar up the back of his left arm. “What did you do here, boy?”

“Now that was most definitely my fault. When Mycroft and I were younger our parents owned a lot of land. Mycroft used to smuggle us passed our nanny and get us into the forest. We built a treehouse over one summer holiday, I fell out…” he trailed off suddenly, lost in thought.

“What happened? With your parents I mean.”

Sherlock shifted his stance slightly, his feet lifting off the ground alternatively. His hands also tightened and loosened behind him. It was a long while before he spoke, “Mummy went mad. Father was late home that day so our arses were well protected until the following day. Well Mycroft’s was, he took the blame…”

“He still cares for you, Sherlock, you do know that, don’t you?” John paused in front of the detective. He spotted his length completely flaccid where it had been hardening at his soft touches moments before. He also couldn’t believe how unfazed he was by being in such an almost vulnerable position, completely naked in front of a man who until a matter of days ago was just his flatmate, and of course his best mate.

Sherlock raised his head from how he had had it lowered submissively. “I didn’t… but more recently… maybe it’s your influence, maybe it’s Greg’s but we are a lot more like we used to be. But what does that matter?” he suddenly grumbled.

The doctor raised his eyebrow in response and actually got a grumbled apology. The Dom nodded once in acceptance, then indicated that he should lower his head again.

John dropped to his knees to continue his search of the pale flesh in front of him, but only found one more scar, just below Sherlock’s left knee with which he just confirmed John’s suspicions that it had also been from when he’d been younger in the tree house.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginnings of bondage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while guys, the negative response on TS kind of put me off of it for a while. But I hope it's well worth the wait and the negativity doesn't continue over here.

John pushed Sherlock down to his knees, running his hands through his curls.

“Is there anything you want to explore?” John asked softly. He wanted the younger man to be able to use this time to his advantage, be able to test out some fantasies that ever made themselves known inside that maze of a head of his.

Sherlock was attempting to purr again. He sniffed absently when the doctor removed his hand.

“Well… I do quite like the idea of being tied up,” he said almost shyly. “Apart from getting caught in a scuffle or something worse with The Work, I’ve not really experienced it before.”

John was nodding, trying to keep all his glee from view. He couldn’t though. That was too much good news for him to hide. “Good. That’s good. Very good, in fact.

The kneeling detective looked up at him, grinning, he tried not to feel the warm glow rising up his chest, but he could fight that off as about as successfully as John could fight his own glee.

“Why’s it good?” he asked.

The Dom lifted the younger man up and pushed him back onto his bed.

“Because I like tying people up. Have you not noticed that I am a criminal mastermind in my spare time.”

“Bloody hell, you could have been at that pool. For a split second, everything I knew vaporised.”

The doctor didn’t know if he want to run away very fast or grin. “You genuinely thought you were wrong, didn’t you? About me?”

“You have no idea the doubt I felt. For the first time. Even as a child I was always right.” For once he didn’t seem smug about it, he stated it just as fact, which John thought, it probably was. “I thought you, John Watson, had managed to deceive me. You. The only person in history who has the power to reel me in and spit me out whenever you feel like it. I thought that was the day.”

“God, Sherlock, I don’t think you have ever been so honest with yourself let alone me.” Before he realised what he was doing he was cupping the detective’s cheek. Sherlock didn’t flinch or pull back, he remained where he was, quietly comforted by the gesture.

“It was literally the end of the world.”

That did make the Dom chuckle. “Ok, now you really are over-exaggerating. So, how about a bit of bondage?” he offered. “Nothing heavy.”

“No!”

“What?”

“I want it heavy.”

John frowned. “You’re joking, right?”

“No,” the detective’s frown matched the Dom’s. “What's wrong with that?”

“It can be a scary experience, Sherlock, being properly restrained. You’ll be relying on me for everything. Just imagine a normal one of your days but with your hands cuffed behind you. How much of your usual routine would have to change or be amended? How much of it would you rely on me for?”

“I…” he trailed off. “I dunno. You said you wouldn’t leave me in a compromising position.”

“I won't. Of course I won't.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

The doctor sighed. “You don’t trust me that much.”

“I trust you a heck of a lot more than you give me credit for. Tie me up. So I don’t like it. You know how fast I learn and how I prefer to be thrown into things in the deep end. If I get to a point where it scares me,” at this point he was scowling as if the words were poisonous. “I have Anderson.”

John shrugged with a slightly chuckle. “Alright.” Truth be told he couldn’t really see how anything could go wrong. He wouldn’t leave him alone and Sherlock was only ever scared of things he didn’t understand and that list was small. “Roll over,” he ordered.

Frowning, but assuming the Dom was doing what he wanted, Sherlock obeyed, doing a great imitation of a beached whale as he did.

“Now, Sherlock, seeing as you have had plenty of warning, this may or may not turn out to be a lesson for you.”

“What? How to be uncomfortable for long periods of time?”

“Hands behind your back,” came John's next order.

Sherlock immediately complied and as he did the older man moved off the bed to gather up a length of rope that he had stashed in his closet, it wasn’t the desired colour, but it would do a satisfactory job.

“Tomorrow, Sherlock, or maybe even this afternoon if you aren’t floating in your own little world I would like you to contact the clubs owner and as prepayment for you helping you would like to borrow some toys to practice with.”

“Us, John. It’s us helping him, not just me and it would probably be okay if we used the private facilities there, wouldn’t they be more beneficial for you?”

“That’s a good point but before we take that step I want you to have been to a few other clubs that are a little tamer first.”

“You worry over nothing.”

John sighed, “if this wasn’t our first session I would gag you.”

The detective actually laughed.

“You are deliberately provoking me, aren’t you, you little brat?”

His laugh deepened in pitch. “Fine. But for doing so I've added an additional five to your tally.”

Just as the newly found sub was about to question what the counting was all about he was stopped in his tracks by a small gag pressed between his teeth in the shape of a ball. The doctor grinned once he'd buckled it up, not tightening each strap as much as he could.

He pressed a small bean bag ball into Sherlock's hands, “this is your alternative to a verbal safe word. If at any point you are hurting or uncomfortable beyond your limits, drop the ball and I’ll have you free in next to no time, ok? Nod if you understand me.”

Sherlock's head jerked in the affirmative once.

“Good. That’s very good. Now hold still.”

Soft fur-lined leather cuffs were slipped around the younger man’s wrists and the Dom attached them together with a karabiner.

“Try and pull free,” he ordered. Sherlock began struggling immediately, and even let out a very undignified huff around his gag. It was small enough that all it did was prise his teeth apart and limited his vocabulary to grunts and moans but if he thought about it, John was sure he could probably make a word around.

He gave up after just over a minute, his head hitting one of the pillows. “This would be classed as light bondage,” he told him, “I suppose what I'm about to do next would also still fall into that category.”

He buckled similar looking cuffs that were slightly larger and a darker shade of brown around his ankles, he did the same between them with a karabiner.

“Try struggling again.”

This time the fight in the detective last about 20 seconds and John chuckled, running his hand down his sub’s, _his sub’s_ , pale back. The result was immediate; gooseflesh replaced where John's fingers had touched.

He used the length of rope that he had and made a lope, he pulled it down over Sherlock's chest so that it pinned his arms to his sides. Then with an extra length he tied a knot around the karabiner between Sherlock's feet and then did the same with his wrists before tightening it up. He tugged and tugged until the detective’s long legs were bent and pulled up to rest near his arse, his arms pulled straight back. The position spread Sherlock's knees wide apart.

“This is known as a hogtie,” John explained as he ran his hand through Sherlock's curls over and over, nearly lovingly.

He used the sheets on the top of the bed to spin the sub around so he was facing the side of the bed and pulled his chair over so he was well within sight of the younger man.

“Put your thumb up of your free hand if you are okay.”

When he immediately did, John allowed his hand to ruffle his hair again.

“Good boy.”

Next, he grabbed his toy box and put it on the floor below Sherlock’s head, the detective’s gaze flickered up to him questioningly. “These are all my toys that I have collected over the years, there’s not much here, most of my stuff got old and rather than replace it I just ditched it. There was no point when I went back for my third tour and I certainly didn’t expect to ever need it once I’d moved in with you. I couldn’t bring myself to bin this lot though, I never found a need to, I had always managed to keep this side of me well hidden, and it must have been well hidden if you couldn’t deduce. Normally that’s fair enough, but still not being able to deduce after this case landed in your lap.”

John was sure there was the hints of a smile around the small gag prising the younger man’s teeth open. That was odd, Sherlock should be mad with himself, furious even.

“I figured if I just kept things in a plastic crate and didn’t lock anything up, you wouldn’t find it interesting when you come up here for a snoop and I'm at work.”

He watched Sherlock's eyes as he ran over what the Dom had just said, it took a minute for the penny to drop but he was soon scowling, more at himself than the older man.

He pushed the box aside and began pulling out some of the items from inside of it.

“The set of cuffs that I have, both wrists and ankles you are already experiencing.”

At that the detective tried struggling again, his legs thrusting out in an attempt to free himself. And then John realised he wasn’t doing it to prove a point or to even fight his situation, he was doing it because his cock was rock hard and he was too bent backward for it to reach the sheets and get the much needed friction. He chuckled. “Oh, Sherlock, you are full of surprises, I’ll deal with that later though, for now…” he waved the ring gag in front of him. “This is the only other gag I have, it’s not a collection I had ever really expanded upon. My previous sub didn’t really appreciate them.”

He lined the lump of rope he still had left over beside the gag and moved back to the box again. Next he pulled out a handful of dildos and another handful of butt plugs.

“Now I would look at these closely, Sherlock, you’ll be well acquainted with them soon.”

Sherlock's eyebrows rose as he realised just what the doctor meant.

He had three of each and they were clearly a set, all a pale pink. They graduated in size, for Sherlock the smallest would look big but for the Dom the largest of the three wasn’t that big, he’d have to look into getting a few more in a couple of weeks if Sherlock managed the ones he already had well. They wouldn’t be big enough compared to what would be expected at Club F, and he wasn’t about to borrow the stock there. Some things it was worth being extra cautious with, he didn’t want anything to happen to Sherlock. For one thing it would be hell of a way to catch some disease and another, his brother was the British Government, relationship or not now, it would be incredibly awkward if he had to explain how his baby brother had gotten hurt. He would no doubt end up in either a ditch or the Thames and neither caught his fancy.

“The blindfold I would have used if I hadn’t wanted you to see my small collection,” he laid it next to the rope. “Lastly I have two punishment tools. The strap which is nothing more than a tap really and if you decide you're into that sort of thing this would be perfect, at least to begin with. And secondly I have a slightly heavier duty paddle.  But even this wouldn’t do you much damage, its kind of soft in comparison to some _toys_. This lot will be fine to be getting on with now but in a few weeks hopefully you’ll want to try some other stuff, at least I hope you will or this case is going to be extremely difficult.”

He reached up and ran his hand through his now slightly sweaty curls. “Thumbs up again, ‘Lock.” He realised what he had called the sub too late but Sherlock didn’t seem to dislike it, in fact he huffed pleasantly around the ball gag and held his thumb up to let the doctor know he was ok.

“You’ve been like that nearly 20 minutes. No longer than 40, ok? And that should be enough bondage for today.”

He pushed himself from his chair and walked around the bed, Sherlock following him with his eyes for as long as he could.

The detective’s body was clearly strained, a thin layer of sweat now covered the younger man and there was a slight tremble in his legs. He ran his hands down each pale leg and Sherlock jerked in surprise, of which John was rather proud because he had never seen him caught off-guard before.

While he was out of sight John made sure to continue to touch the sub to ensure Sherlock was aware of his presence and that he hadn’t been abandoned.

After a few minutes sat watching Sherlock’s tenseness increase, he reached forward and unbuckled the gag, placing it to the side to let him work his jaw.

“You ready for me to untie you now?”

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut but nodded, “Yes, John, aches.”

“Did you forget your safe word?” the doctor checked, concerned.

“No, but you said an extra 20 minutes, I knew I could handle that.”

John grinned with pride. “You did it for me?” at his nod John ruffled his hair again. “For such a great first go. You can chose one of three things. Do you want me to leave you alone so you can deal with yourself?” he pointed at Sherlock's well filled out cock. “I can do it for you, while you're tied like that or I can release you and do it for you?”

The detective continued to work his jaw again for a few moments. “The third one,” he answered, then added, “please.”

His response surprised the blond. He had expected the first option. It was the most private and Sherlock was a very private person, after all. Even so, he smiled. “Sure.” He set about untying the rope first and then moved to separate the cuffs.

“Can they stay on?” Sherlock asked suddenly. “Not done up. Just on?”

“Sure,” the doctor repeated. “Why?” it would have been a lie and a large one if he said he wasn’t curious.

“I like them. They’re comforting. They remind me of you, sort of.”

“Fine,” he chucked the karabiners into the box and then helped him to roll over, stretching his lanky arms and legs out. He rubbed the muscles in his upper arms. “I’m assuming you enjoyed that?”

He nodded, dopily, it was as if for the first time John noticed that his eyes were clouded over and heavily lidded. “You, my favourite detective, are in subspace.”

Sherlock didn’t argue he just watched the Dom, nearly curiously but he wasn’t alert enough to carry it off very well. 

“Well then,” John wrapped his hand around Sherlock's cock, softly at first but the response was immediate. His head tilted back and he had apparently had enough of being upright as he fell back on the bed, his legs spread wide. “You can come when you want, ‘Lock,” he deliberately used the shortened version of his name as the detective was kind of soppy in subspace. It was cute, not like he would say that out loud but he was, kind of childlike in a way that wasn’t finding trouble.

Sherlock came almost immediately as John ran his hand up and down his hard length, he panted and grunted rather undignified for a ‘Holmes’ the Dom was sure if he was to ever mention it, the response would be nothing but denial.

As John let him go, covered in come, Sherlock panted softly to himself. He waited until he had managed to gain control of himself again he sat up on his elbows, enough so he could see the blond. “That was good.”

John laughed nervously but when he could clearly see that he meant it he, relaxed and held his hand out. “Let’s go and get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Blinking sluggishly, Sherlock agreed, more than content to take the presented hand and follow him downstairs.

Sherlock was a completely different person as the older man led him into the bathroom beside the detective’s room. He seemed functional but at a glance he appeared to be high. It was a much healthier alternative for him, and John would need to remind himself that they needed to have this discussion when Sherlock was ‘sober’.

He reached into the bath and flicked on the shower head, allowing it to warm up, Sherlock's hand still in his as he just stood there dopily.

“In you get then,” John ordered.

Sherlock just blinked.

“Well that’s no good. Go on, in you go, you’ll be all clean when you come back out.”

The Dom got the same response from the younger man, sighing, he pulled his hand free and shed his shirt and jeans. As he pulled off each sock, Sherlock wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Not just any hug but a naked one. John was now hugging his flat mate and not just hugging, but naked hugging. And it was ok.

***

It had been a very awkward shower and taken far longer than it should have done. Subspace had an amazing reaction with Sherlock, one John was going to treasure every time he got that reaction, a floaty, jolly detective. He had been absolutely useless in the shower and John had had to do everything. The doctor couldn’t believe how well it had gone, considering neither of the two men had ever seen the other naked. He was now wrapping the younger man in a big fluffy towel as Sherlock’s clouded eyes watched him absently.

He shoved him towards the sitting room. “Go and sit down then.”

Sherlock went immediately, leaving the Dom to get dressed, back into his shirt and jeans, but this time foregoing his socks and his pants. He went straight through to the kitchen to put the kettle on and slip some bread into the toaster.

When he walked on through to find Sherlock, it was to spot him on the sofa rather than his usual arm chair. He sat next to him with a tray on his lap, the detective’s head dropped straight to his shoulder, which he didn’t find as surprising as he should have done.

He placed the mug of tea he had made for him in his hands and he cupped it like he was likely to drop it. “How are you feeling?” the Dom asked.

Sherlock blinked. “Good. Good, definitely good.”

John had to agree if he was repeating himself. Sherlock absolutely loathed repeating himself, he made a habit of yelling at people who did it and if he did it himself by accident he would get in a strop with himself for days, facing the back of the sofa in nothing but his dressing gown.

He placed the plate of lightly buttered toast on his lap and intended to make Sherlock eat all three slices.

“John?”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“Can we do that again tomorrow?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had writers block with this fic for a long time and only began writing for it a week before s4 aired. And then of course have dealt with all those feels through other fics. But here we go

John had decided that the day before would have been a bad day for Sherlock to leave the flat. A very bad idea, he hadn’t even gone so far as to let him leave the room.

He had spent the majority of the afternoon dozing in and out of Sherlock mode and the other chunk of the time in floaty subspace mode. Subspace had had a large effect on him, an effect of which John was glad. The Dom/sub thing may have been temporary but if Sherlock got some peace out of it, it would most definitely be worth it, case or no case. And the case would definitely not be coming first. It would be amazing to give Sherlock another alternative to getting high, one that would almost always be available.

He was laid awake now, staring at the ceiling and thinking how he would proceed that day. It seemed they’d been at this whole Dom/sub thing for weeks when it in fact had been no more than a few days. Somehow late last night, John had ended up in Sherlock's bed. It was as much as a surprise to him as he expected it to be to the other man when he woke up.

For the moment though, he was comfortable where he was and warm, moving would ruin that. He hated January mornings, they made you want to hide in bed forever and never leave. Especially with one gorgeous pliable lankly detective laid out next to you. He couldn’t believe that had just gone through his mind. He had never seen Sherlock that way… well, he lied to himself about it too much. That didn’t mean he was about to blurt that out to Sherlock, he was convinced that to do that would be suicidal.

Eventually though, he knew he would need to wake Sherlock up. It wasn’t something he enjoyed doing, the man never slept. Or rather had the sleeping patterns of a teenager, wide awake at 2am, but could quite easily be asleep at 2pm. Prepared to start the day at last, he lifted his head up and pulled his inherited pillow free. Then he rolled over and whacked the detective square in the face with it.

“W-What?” Sherlock spluttered, eyes snapping wide open immediately. When he came around, properly alert, he appeared to be in shock. “What the- John?” he frowned, shaking his head minutely as if that would help him work out what was going on. Why was he being so damn slow?

“Yes, I ended up in your room last night. Yes, also in your bed. No, I have no idea why. I also had no idea it was so comfortable.”

Sherlock blinked stupidly for a moment trying to wake himself up, another reason why he deplored sleep, everyone – including himself – was so dreary in its wake. Eventually he laughed nervously, he didn’t remember much of the previous evening either, let alone falling into his bed with the ex-army captain.

The doctor grinned. “You were so not you last night… it was rather peaceful.” He enjoyed it, it was something different, but it would be incredibly weird if Sherlock was like that all the time… though he could maybe get used to it.

“It was different. New,” the detective cleared his throat. “I did enjoy it though, more than I perhaps realised at the time. Is it normal not to remember much after?”

“For me, yes. For you I would say that was amazing.”

“Last night was amazing, John, what I remember of it.”

“Well I'm glad you think so now, because you asked me to do it again.”

“I did?” Sherlock's eyebrows rose in surprise as he twisted back around in the sheets again to properly see his flatmate. “Ok,” he finished rather lamely. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Is that alright?” John checked, now worried he had done something to upset the younger man. He hated when he put his foot in it and whenever he did, he never knew what he had done.

“That’s fine,” Sherlock reassured him. “More than fine – brilliant, in fact.”

“Alright, you don’t need to fake enthusiasm.”

Sherlock pushed himself up the bed, realising he still had his dressing gown on, why had he gone to be wearing that?

“I never fake enthusiasm, John.”

“No, of course you don’t. Now get your lazy arse up out of bed and go and fetch me a nice warm mug of coffee and some toast.”

“But, that’s boring-”

“And get yourself some too.”

“But-” Sherlock's second argument was also cut off by the doctor.

“And when you get back,” he continued, “without another word of complaint, I will tie you up, feed you too, and well talk about the day ahead.”

John watched Sherlock roll out of bed with obvious reluctance. He couldn’t help but think this had been exactly what he had been trying to avoid. Ending up being in Sherlock's space after their session together, especially after being very blunt about not doing it. At least Sherlock hadn’t been adverse to the idea when he had woken up and the only reason he would have found himself in bed with the younger man the night before would have been because of Sherlock needing him there.

Any thoughts the doctor may have been having while he had popped upstairs, were shortly distinguished when Sherlock's lithe form appeared in the doorway, his dressing gown hanging down loosely showing his bare flesh beneath it. In his hands, he held a tray.

Smiling, John plumped up the pillows and made himself comfortable, he pointed to the floor at the edge of the bed that was still covered in the rug. “Kneel there.” If Sherlock had argued against it, he wouldn’t have forced the younger man, he might want it to be normal for a few hours first. John was slightly surprised when the tall man’s legs bent and he dropped smoothly to the floor, letting the tray rest on the bed. John was glad to see enough food there for the both of them.

He glanced beside him and gathered up the rope he had brought back down with him. “Turn around.” The detective obeyed him immediately and shifted around, automatically holding his hands behind his back. Leaning over, John began to wrap the rope around his wrists, manipulating it into a criss cross pattern up his forearms, drawing his shoulders back and in turn thrusting his chest forward.

“This bondage can get quite dangerous if used for too long, but for now, it’s perfect.”

He tugged it a little tighter and then encouraged him to turn around. Sherlock felt obliged to test his restraints, despite knowing that there was no way for him to pull free. John smirked, “planning on going somewhere?”

The detective shook his head. “Nope,” he popped the p. “Just felt like the right thing to do.”

“If anything hurts, tell me,” he held a slice of toast at Sherlock's lips while eating another slice himself. He was quite proud of the kneeling man when he bit a chunk off and began to chew it without argument. Just like he had been ordered before he left the room 10 minutes.

After Sherlock had eaten his first slice, he glanced up at John, his head tilted on one side.

“What’s up?” the doctor asked, holding his mug of tea to his lips.

Sherlock sipped at it. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Today. I think we should head over to the Club.”

“Why?”

“Well… so you can have a look around and so we can have a chat to your mate.”

“But you said-”

John dropped his hand in Sherlock's curls, pushing his fingers through the soft locks. “I know what I said. But I think you need to look around, see what will have to happen. Theres not going to be any couples there and if you really want to scene, it can be as tame or heavy as you want it.”

“You're the Dom. Why don’t you decide?”

John smiled softly and returned to the tea. “You enjoyed what we did yesterday but that isn’t even a percent of what can happen in this world, lets break you in gently, so you tell me when it gets too much.”

Sherlock nodded slowly, “But you think I did well yesterday.”

The Dom’s smile turned into a soft chuckled. “That goes without saying.”

“You said it a lot. But that’s not what I mean. I surprised you. Something that did or didn’t happen yesterday surprised you in what I think is a good way, there’s not enough data for a full answer. But you wouldn’t take me to the Club this soon unless you wanted to test me.”

“An experiment?”

“Of a sort, you’ve been going on about all this for days now, how we have to take it slowly.”

“We do. And us going there doesn’t mean we aren’t taking things slowly. Being in the Club doesn’t mean I'm going to suspend you from the ceiling by your arse and whip you stupid.”

“My arse?”

“Oh, trust me, Sherlock. That can happen.”

The sub frowned trying to work out how it could be possible, he was beginning to realise what John had said about them only scratching the surface yesterday, he had underestimated it. John laughed at the look on his face. It was great knowing something Sherlock didn’t, for some reason it almost made him feel proud.

“We’ll just try something new, but soft and it’ll give you a chance to see what it’s like rather than just being told about it.”

The rest of breakfast followed in much the same way. John holding out food and Sherlock accepting it in order not to piss off the doctor. Sherlock asked other questions, mainly relating to the club. Some John did have answers for, some would have to wait a few hours and others were better as actions rather than words.

Content the younger man had eaten enough, John untied the rope, letting Sherlock stretch and flex his muscles, he waited a while keeping a close eye on him for any stiffness, but he seemed perfectly happy.

“Alright?” At his nod, he continued, “why don’t you get ready, then?”

John gathered up the tray and left Sherlock to shower and dress in his usual white shirt and trousers while he went to find a change of clothes himself.

He caught up with Sherlock when the younger man was retrieving their coats. “Catch,” he said with a grin as he threw his coat in John’s direction. Quick reflexes caught his jacket and he was soon slipping into it.

“I’m going to suggest something now that you may or may not want to do.”

The detective let his eyebrows raise as he tried to deduce what the shorter man was talking about, he even glanced around for inspiration. He soon found out when John pulled a set of their favourite DI’s handcuffs from his back pocket. “They were in that drawer and so were about 6 warrant cards.”

“He makes it so easy.”

“Turn around,” John made a spinning motion with his finger and Sherlock spun on his toe. “Hands,” was the next order.

Slightly nervous, Sherlock held his hands around behind him, making things far easier for the Dom. A shiver went through him as he felt the metal enclose his wrist.

“We are going as far as the cab and then from the cab to the Club door.” He paused with the cuffs around only one wrist, “it’s up to you whether I do this or not.”

“I’m not complaining, John. It’s not like it’s the first time I've been handcuffed is it? In all honesty, I rather like the feel of them when you do it. They make me feel… accepted.” He didn’t bother to add the fact he knew John wouldn’t bolt if he was restrained, that was far too much information.

John nodded and threw Sherlock's jacket over his shoulders, covering his cuffed wrists. He slotted the empty sleeves into his jacket pockets.

“Genius,” Sherlock whispered, only half sarcastically.

“Quiet you, now go and get in the cab.”

Sherlock did nothing obvious to suggest his hands weren’t actually in his pockets as he walked passed the doctor and down the stairs, hoping Mrs. Hudson wouldn’t show herself; she would definitely know what was going on. John grabbed the bag he had packed with some stuff and followed him out the flat.

***

When they reached the club they climbed from the cab, ignoring the look from the driver as John helped the younger man. Due to the Club being shut, the car park was quiet as they walked towards the side door. Now they were here, Sherlock was a little worried.

“Hey,” John noticed the look on Sherlock's face and leant up to ruffle his curls, Sherlock didn’t try to duck away, but he didn’t melt into it like he had been. “It’ll be fine. I’ll do the talking.”

Sherlock nodded once, he rarely wanted to give up that right, but it seemed ok to do so now.

After John knocked, it wasn’t long before the owner appeared to let them in.

“Malcolm,” the detective started, only going as far as to introduce the other man. “This is Doctor Watson… he’ll be assisting me.”

“Ah, of course, Doctor Watson, Sherlock told me to read your blog, wonderful stuff.”

“Thanks,” John shook his hand, glancing sideways at his flatmate.

“Well your plan for playing dominant clearly didn’t work, Sherlock. Doctor Watson is a Dominant if I remember correctly.”

John nodded once, “Your memory has nothing to do with it,” he said lightly, jerking Sherlock's jacket off and revealing his cuffed wrists.

The manager smiled, “You're getting into the swing of things then, Sherlock?”

The sub grinned slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging up, “John?” he turned sideways so the doctor could slot the key into the hole. He rubbed at his wrists and slipped them in his trouser pockets, more than content to let John stand there holding his coat. He wasn’t surprised when John threw his Belstaff over his head and followed the owner into the club further.

“Well, I'm sure you remember the layout, Doctor Watson. It hasn’t changed much yet and there’s very few workman around today. So I shall leave you two to explore for a few hours.”

“Do you mind if we use some equipment? I’m sure Sherlock will have questions.”

“Of course, go ahead. The private rooms are open and they have beds if you plan to stay more than just a few hours.”

“I’m not sure, thanks for the offer. I’ll come and find you when we’re done.”

“My office is on the top floor.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed up a flight of stairs.

The doctor watched him go and then placed his hand comfortingly on the back of Sherlock's neck, directing him to the many rooms where the live shows were held. The room was expansive, everything was in boxes except the larger tools, and everything was scattered around the sides of the room.

“This place is bigger than I expected.”

“Many live shows happen in here.”

“Live shows like what?”

“Have you never seen porn?”

Sherlock eyed him suspiciously for a minute. “Obviously not.”

The Dom chuckled, “You know, it might be an idea for you to try it.”

“Can we try it now?” Sherlock took a step closer to the doctor.

John froze, he hadn’t intended on anything happening so quickly, it was like the younger man was gagging for it. “Why don’t we just look around first, yeah?”

“Ok,” it didn’t take Sherlock long for something to catch his eye. “What's that?” he pointed to something specific in amongst the massive pile of leather equipment scattering one corner.

“It’s known as an arm binder.” He took it off him and turned it over, showing him the buckles. “It’s for use over longer periods of time than the rope this morning. They can be tightened and restricted further.”

“Can we try it?”

The doctor laughed again. “You’re incredibly eager about all of this, especially as it isn’t something you know a lot about. You don’t even really have relationship experience.”

“All I need to know is that it isn’t boring. As you well know, for me that is incredibly rare.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a plan to bring Sherlock into reality. He decides to go heavy on the detective, until he sees him struggling and makes him safeword. It was clear it was the only way he was going to learn. But Sherlock loves it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No safewording or noncon/dubcon!
> 
>  
> 
> And I know it's been a while... ooooops!

John stared at him for a moment, allowing himself time to process everything that had happened in the last hour. 

"I'm not promising anything," he said eventually, "but we'll see."

At that, Sherlock shrugged. He liked to think he understood John's caution, but he didn't. It was John, and he did things the 'safe' way and he always would. As boring as that was. 

"Either way, whether we use this or not, you should see the rest of the place first."

Sherlock inclined his head and walked off again, in search of something else interesting enough to hold his attention. 

"What is this?" He asked a while later. He had been going through a large chest in one corner. 

"That is… well that is a harness."

Sherlock held it up, examining it closely. He sniffed it and only just stopped himself licking it when he realised the obvious. 

"So I assume that goes over…" he poked at his trousers. 

John laughed. "Yeah. But it is the attachments you should be more worried about." 

"Attachments?"

John stepped up beside him and rummaged through the box he had pulled the harness from. He knew what he seeked was in there somewhere, it was just a case of locating it. 

"What does that do?" Sherlock asked, one eyebrow raised as the blond pulled out the object he had sought. 

It was a slim metal rod and clearly a display one, having not been kept in sterile packaging, but Sherlock still looked rather… dubious. An unusual look on the younger man, John realised. 

"It's a sound."

"Where's it go?"

"Men have three holes as well, Sherlock. Much like women."

Sherlock looked very confused for a moment, he hadn't got that far with a woman before... but after a moment he worked out what John was talking about and tilted his head in understanding. "Ah."

John took the metal rod back off him. "One thing at a time, Sherlock."

"Let's avoid that one."

John laughed. "About time I found something you didn't like the look of."

***

John had been looking around at some of the other equipment, some of it even he didn't recognise. 

"You look confused."

The doctor's head snapped up and he looked at his friend who had crept up beside him in surprise. "Not confused, just coming to terms with how much even I don't know about this world."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does, mate." John turned his attention away from the toys on the lower part of the wall to focus more fully on the detective. "I can't use any of this stuff on you until I know how it feels or works on myself."

"I can be your lab rat," Sherlock had a smirk on his face as he spoke, but he saw the look on John's and grumbled in annoyance. 

"No, no, no," the doctor shook his head, "that is not the way this works. Everything I have done and will do to you in the next several months I will have experienced myself."

"But-"

"No arguments, Sherlock."

The Dom pressed his finger to Sherlock's lips and actually smiled when the detective didn't pull back, nor try and speak around it. 

***

The pair of them had gone their separate ways again, in search of new things to look at. John answered many of the question that the younger man had, or rather, answered the questions that he had answers to. 

After nearly an hour of them having the roam of the club, Sherlock found the doctor, intent on asking for something that he wasn't sure would be expected. 

"John, can I make a suggestion while we're in here?"

The Dom turned away from the bag he had been routing through. 

"You may. I might not listen to it though."

Sherlock smirked as he asked his question anyway. "Can I suck you?"

John froze completely, feeling the fringes of arousal begin down below. "Have you done that before?"

"No. But I've been sucked off before. I know the techniques, they're simple. It's a matter of finding the pleasure points and-" 

John cut the detective off by pressing a gag into his mouth. It was larger than the ball gag back at the flat. This one was a ring. John had snatched it up and given it a wash while they'd been out in the main room, then kept it in his pocket, waiting to use it when he got the chance. 

"There, that'll keep you to nothing but grunts for a moment. Strip off."

While Sherlock was getting naked, John pulled out a bench. 

"Fold that lot up," John ordered with a snap to his tone, his finger jabbing at the pile of scruffy suit pieces littering the floor. 

With a slightly bratty smirk, Sherlock folded up his suit and left it in a pile. 

John watched him for several moments, appreciatively. "When you're on your knees, your hands go behind your back, Sherlock. You know this."

With a huff, the kneeling man did as he was told. 

"Legs apart, feet close together. More than that, Sherlock. Come on!" His last words had the tone of his voice change in pitch, becoming a warning. 

The detective clearly noticed because he began to shift as he had been told. 

John made eye contact with him and sighed. It took several moments before Sherlock realised what he was after and ducked his head. 

"Better. You need to start obeying immediately, Sherlock. Not when it pleases you to do so."

"But-" Sherlock's voice was muffled by the gag, but the word was clearly decipherable. 

"You can stop arguing too!" John snapped, pushing three fingers through the gag and pressing down on the kneeling man's tongue before he got a chance to attempt to argue further. 

He took Sherlock by the hand and led him through to one of the playrooms, then he let his hand fall to his sub's shoulder and pressed him down. 

The detective dropped, this time, his hands resting behind him straight away. John smiled, "Better," he whispered, brushing his hand, loosely through his curls. 

Leaving Sherlock where he was, John crossed the room and entered the closet, looking for inspiration. 

With a small smirk he began tugging a low padded bench out. It didn't take long for Sherlock to glance over his shoulder to see what all the noise was. 

"Oi!" John barked. "Turn around."

"But-" Sherlock tried complaining once again. 

With a heavy sigh, the Dom abandoned his mission of pulling the bench out and returned all his attention to Sherlock. He gripped his curls in his fist and tugged his head back, exposing his neck. 

"When you are kneeling, you stay in your exact position! No matter what I am doing. Are we clear on that?"

Sherlock scowled up at him, so the doctor tightened his grip, pulling his head back even more. Eventually, he tried to nod. 

"Good." John dropped his head and went back to the bench, he kept part of his attention on Sherlock, waiting for the younger man to get 'bored' and begin to shift like he normally did. 

He set about cleaning the bench while waiting for Sherlock to misbehave. 

He was most surprised, when 10 minutes later with a clean bench, Sherlock was still where he had been left. 

"Oi, Holmes," John called out. 

Cautiously, the detective glanced over his shoulder. 

"Up on your feet, get on the bench, on your chest."

Sherlock scrambled to obey, the bench was cold against his naked chest, but it was something he would no doubt have to get used to. 

"I'm going to tie you down, Sherlock, alright?"

The detective nodded with so much enthusiasm it made John laugh. It was at that moment he knew how he had to work with the younger man. He needed to try something heavy, rather than starting off gently. He needed to start heavy and push Sherlock to the edge. If he did that, the man would truly understand the need for slow progression with this situation. 

To tie him down, he'd start at his head. "Now, a collar is common practice," he would need to get used to wearing one. He ran his hand through Sherlock's curls as he settled the collar in place at his neck. He buckled it up and latched it to the bench, it kept the younger man's head down no matter how much he struggled. 

Much to Sherlock's surprise, the doctor sat on the floor in front of him. If he could have, he would have asked what he was up to. It turned out he didn't need to. 

He suddenly felt warm calloused fingers tweak and pull at his nipples. It was a strange sensation. John laughed at the look on Sherlock's face. "There is sooooo much you don't know, Sherlock. And I'm the one that gets to teach you."

He kept playing with his nipples with one hand and used the other to run it through his curls, tugging his head this way and that. 

Sherlock's attention was so focused on the hand in his hair, he didn't notice what the Dom had in his hand. He bit back a yelp when something bit into his nipple. 

"These are nipple clamps, Sherlock." John ran the chain beneath the bench and clamped it to the other side. That time Sherlock let out a low groan. 

John tapped the gag with his index finger. "Regretting opening your mouth yet?"

All Sherlock did in response was roll his eyes. At that, John slapped him. "I strongly advise not doing that again." He ran his hands down over Sherlock's shoulders before throwing his leg over the bench and dropping his arse down onto Sherlock's lower back. 

Gagged or not, John could hear the grunt Sherlock let out. He laughed, he didn't know whether the grunt was surprise or pain. He didn't really care, it was all building up to making Sherlock realise the truth of the Dom/sub universe. 

Poking at each rib in turn, he contemplated the way in which he would tie Sherlock's hands up with the length of rope he held in his other hand, he knew several ways, it was just difficult deciding what would look the best on such a pale frame. "You are far too skinny, boy."

Muffled grunts were the reply and John laughed again. "It's something that will change. You need to fill out a bit." He reached down and snagged one wrist pulling it up his back. "Other hand."

'No' was what Sherlock tried to say next. John reached back with one hand, reached between his legs and snagged his cock. Beneath his arse, Sherlock froze and tentatively his free hand began to move behind him. When it was in reach John grabbed him. He pressed the backs of his hands together and threaded the rope in between his fingers. 

For Sherlock it was immediately uncomfortable as the rope moved down from his fingers to wrap around his hands. As it reached his wrists he began to tug at it. 

"You aren't going anywhere, Sherlockie," he laughed, he looped the rope through a secondary D ring on the collar, pinning the detective's hands to his back and preventing him from moving. Yes he could easily slip a pair of handcuffs, but it was hardly the same thing. This was a different sort of restraint completely. 

Content his hands were completely restrained, John climbed off his best friends back and gathered up a set of leather padded cuffs. He wrapped them around his ankles and tied them off to the bench. All Sherlock could do was stamp his feet in frustration and even that was barely making any noise. 

"Trussed up like this, your safe word is simple. Shake your head a lot. If you shake it enough a bell will rattle. Try it now."

Sherlock shook his head several times and the first thing John did was remove the gag. "Any smart remarks?" He asked holding it in his hand.

"No," Sherlock whispered, watching it. "You'll take that off if I safe word?"

John nodded. "Straight away." With that he pushed it back between his lips, tying it off, ready to continue. 

He grabbed up a tube of lube and let it dribble down Sherlock's crack. Instantly, the younger man's began to shift to dislodge the cold gel. 

John barked a laugh. "Cute!" He landed his palm twice on his arse, then began to edge his finger in. He worked and worked, moving the lube around and making his hole stretch to accommodate first one finger and then a second. 

"Good boy," he soothed, when he began to work in a third. 

Sherlock was rather enjoying the new feeling. It was definitely something he wouldn't mind repeating so far. But soon enough John's hands disappeared. He grunted his frustration and the doctor snorted grabbing up his next tool. 

A cold metal ball pressed at Sherlock's entrance and he moaned wantonly. 

"Oooooh you like that, do you, Sherlock?" He pressed again and the ball sucked in, then was pushed back in. He repeated that several times, smiling the whole while. 

"On the count of 5 this is going in."

Sherlock nodded once, not enough to jerk the bell. 

"One..." 

Before he could get to two he pushed in and the ball disappeared. It sucked inside the detective's hole and John could feel his trousers getting tight as Sherlock grunted at the impact it made with his insides. It was something John had loved personally, feeling so full inside was amazing. He played with it a long time, twisting it and turning it, tugging it back to fight the right hole trying to keep it in. 

"Good boy."

Sherlock was panting heavily as John tied the remaining rope from his wrists through the eye loop in the hook, keeping it seated firmly in place. 

***

John had left him tied like that and collapsed in a chair just out of Sherlock's view to watch. It was quite a sight. But it didn't take long before the detective was grunting and shifting his hips just like he knew he would. "Stop it!" John reached out and grabbed a nearby crop, leaning over and whacking his thigh with it. "I decide what happens here, Sherlock, not you." 

With a growl of annoyance, the detective stilled much to the doctor's surprise.he had expected that mini rebellion to go on a lot longer than it had. He was heavily tied and likely uncomfortable. It was the only reason he could think of that made him stop. 

An idea struck John as he stepped away again. He looked around for a piece of string, then grabbed two bits. He tied one loosely around Sherlock's cock and bollocks and tied the other around the rope heading between his hole and his hands. Then he found the armchair again. 

He sat back and enjoyed playing with each string separately. Not surprisingly, the string that had the better response was the one that was controlling the hook deeply imbedded inside of him. However, the one around his bollocks seemed to be more controlling, each time he tugged it, Sherlock understandably stilled. 

He left him like that a long while before deciding he needed to move him. He'd expected Sherlock to have reached his limit by now and had checked the bell on his collar twice. Who was he not to give the man what he wanted?

The first thing he did before pulling him upright was remove the clamps around his nipples, then removed the ankle cuffs from the bench but left them around his feet. He shoved the clamps in his pocket. He'd be using those again shortly. He leant over and blew at his bright red nipples, grinning as they shivered beneath the sensations. 

He cupped Sherlock's cheek briefly, just checking in. The detective was clearly floating high. The man was amazing, and gorgeous the way he was taught and tied. He was gorgeous anyway, but this...

He led him across the room by the string around his bollocks to a length of chain hanging from the ceiling. He quickly set about attaching it to the hook. He wouldn't fully lift him off his feet but he'd make him uncomfortable. The other end of chain was joined to his wrists and John smiled broadly. 

As he pulled the winch, shifting him, he reached into his pants and shifted his cock, he would need to do something to relieve it pretty damn soon. 

The dopey grin on Sherlock's face made John feel the need to up the ante a bit more. He grabbed a spreader bar and locked it between his feet, keeping them wide apart and useless to protect himself. He watched as John tied off the winch not really taking it in as he tested his new position. 

Sherlock's eyes went wide as he cottoned on to his new situation but he didn't make a noise. He loved it. 

"You didn't believe you could be hung from the ceiling by your arse, now you do."

John replaced the nipple clamps in slightly different positions to how he had removed them, then he pecked he trussed up man on the cheek. "This is truly a gift, pet." He stepped back and watched for a while, allowing the strain and ripples of his muscles to entertain him. 

"One last thing before I leave you for a while again."

John wrapped a leather strap around the base of Sherlock's cock and bollocks. He wanted nothing more than to watch with fascination as John tied a leash to the little strap and attached it to the spreader bar keeping his feet apart. The best he could do was catch some of it in the reflection of the bench. 

He closed his and shifted his arse, letting the ball shift around inside of him and do all the work. 

"Good boy," John cupped his cheek again before sitting down to enjoy the show once more.


End file.
